


A Chase Through Time

by Flywitchesfly



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: CW Charmed Secret Santa Challenge, F/M, London, Time Travel, Victorian
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:15:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28359939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flywitchesfly/pseuds/Flywitchesfly
Summary: Maggie and Jordan are trapped in Victorian London after a plan to infiltrate The Faction’s base goes awry.This story was created for Tumblr user Forlorn-Kumquat as part of the CW Charmed Secret Santa 2020 Event. The prompt was: Maggie/Jordan: Time Travel Shenanigans.Merry Christmas!
Relationships: Jordan Chase/Maggie Vera
Comments: 13
Kudos: 6
Collections: CW Charmed Secret Santa 2020 Event





	A Chase Through Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Forlorn Kumquat (sara_wolfe)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sara_wolfe/gifts).



> Merry Christmas! I hope you enjoy this story. It initially began as a one-shot, but my imagination got the better of me and now I am hoping to continue ‘A Chase Through Time’ in 2021.

London, 1880.

“Watch out!” Jordan shouted, amid the gasps of onlookers as Maggie stepped out onto the cobblestoned street.

Maggie spun around only to be faced with an enormous chestnut mare rearing on its hind legs. It’s hooves were inches from her face when she was unceremoniously yanked back onto the footpath by Jordan. She landed hard against his chest, his hand grasping her arm protectively.

The horse, which was pulling a handsome cab, was brought under control by it’s owner, who shot daggers at Maggie.

“What do you think you are doing, silly girl! Get off the blasted street!” He yelled, his exuberance causing spittle to land on his beard.

“My apologies, good sir. It was an honest mistake.” Maggie replied, trying to mimic the speech of the time period she had been stuck in for the last four weeks.

The driver, clad in a top hat and expensive livery, spewed expletives at her as the cab rounded a corner and disappeared from sight.

Maggie exhaled loudly before straightening and moving away from Jordan. Not that she didn’t enjoy being close to him, but the social norms were different here. Being too familiar with a man in public would attract unwanted attention, particularly in a neighbourhood as upper class as this.

Indeed, a group of women in sumptuous evening gowns and fur coats were eyeing her with strange expressions. As if they knew she didn’t belong. Maggie was instantly reminded of the Kappa sorority sisters.

“You’d think with my power I would have seen that coming.” Maggie quipped wryly, hugging her patchy, woollen shawl close to her body. It was a cold night and her simple dress and tattered shawl did little to shield Maggie from weather that was far harsher than Seattle.

“Are you ok?” Jordan asked, his face full of concern.

“I’m fine. Or as fine as I can be given where we are.” Maggie answered, giving him a sad smile.

Jordan nodded in understanding, his expression uncharacteristically sombre.

It had been four weeks since the two of them had been magically thrown back through time to the year 1880. Four weeks of scrounging for food and shelter in an unforgiving and unfamiliar city.

Maggie and Jordan had been on a mission to infiltrate The Faction’s base to recover a number stolen magical artefacts, when they encountered a box with runic symbols. She remembered shouting a warning as he reached for the box, then a blinding flash of light filled the room.

When Maggie’s vision cleared they were standing in central London. But everything was wrong, the buildings, the clothes, even the smells around them were all out of place. It didn’t take long before they connected the dots. Somehow, the box had sent Maggie and Jordan back through time.

They had survived by pawning Maggie’s jewellery and Jordan’s watch, gaining sufficient funds for food, clothing and a room in the East End. But after weeks of fruitless experimenting, they had been unable to figure out how to harness the box to transport them back home.

Maggie had tried for hours on end to get a vision from the box, but it was dormant and unresponsive to her magic. Regardless, the pair kept it with them wherever they went, terrified they might lose their only link to the future.

After three weeks they had become desperate. With their funds running low, Maggie had bought some magical supplies from a gypsy in the slums. It was coarse, dangerous magic, but she managed to infuse her blood into a lace parasol. The idea being that the object would help them locate a matrilineal relative, who - if they were lucky - would be witch who could help them find a way home.

It was this spell that had lead Maggie and Jordan to one of the wealthiest neighbourhoods in central London.

Coughing a little at the smog that permeated the streets of London, Maggie motioned for Jordan to join her in the darkness of a nearby alley. Let the peacocks of London society think what they may...

Away from prying eyes, the two of them surveyed a prestigious townhouse across the street. It was large and imposing, stretching three storeys up towards the dark, cloudy sky.

Whereas the surrounding buildings had been fashioned with red bricks, Hughes House was built with white stone that glowed eerily when Maggie looked at it. The door was the colour of cobalt, while the handle was an ostentatious swan’s head made of gold. Maggie could just make out the phases of the moon painted above the door frame.

The house, they had learned, belonged to widow and mother of four Lady Honoria Hughes. They had made some enquires and learnt Honoria was well known around town for her ostentatious fashion sense and generous donations to charity.

Maggie watched as a crowd of well-dressed aristocrats in their finest ball gowns and furs made their way towards the entrance. Evidently Lady Hughes was having a party. Not necessarily a bad thing if they could blend in.

“So are we really doing this? We have no idea what’s in there?” Jordan said with some trepidation.

Maggie felt a stab of guilt as she watched him try not to shiver. Jordan’s dusty brown coat and simple cotton trousers doing little to protect him from the sharp London wind. If it wasn’t for her, he never would havebecome involved in all of this.

Maggie motioned the lace parasol in her hands towards the building with determination. Instantly, the parasol became hot, indicating the presence of a blood relative in the house.

“This is it. Hopefully there is a witch in there that can help us.” She replied, squeezing Jordan’s hand to reassure him.

Jordan looked at her, his eyes lacking their normal vigour. He was exhausted, Maggie could tell that much. She knew that he lay for hours awake at night, wondering whether they would ever see their friends and family again. So did she.

Reaching into her pocket Maggie pulled out two small vials filled with sparkling green glamour powder. Carefully, she handed one to Jordan, motioning for him to open it.

“Here goes nothing.” Maggie declared, emptying the contents to of the vial onto her dismal clothes.

Tendrils of green smoke obscured Maggie’s vision for a moment before clearing. The sweet smell of peppermint filled her nose, along with sulphur and mandrake root.

Looking down, Maggie gasped at the magnificent gown that adorned her figure. It was ice blue, with a form fitting silk bodice that highlighted her waist and hips. Delicate silver threads formed an intricate design from the base of the bodice to the modest neckline. The collar sat below Maggie’s shoulders, embellished with white lace and glittering sequins. The skirt was full and floated around her like a cloud.

Maggie stretched out her hands, now adorned with white, elbow length satin gloves. Carefully she reached up to touch her hair, which was arranged in an elegant updo with pearls scattered throughout. A few curls left unbound to delicately frame her face.

Turning to face Jordan she found him clad in a well-tailored suit with a silk waistcoat and slicked back hair. His diamond cuff links gleamed despite the darkness of the alley and his shoes were so polished Maggie could almost see her reflection. For the first time since they had arrived he looked optimistic.

“Shall we, Miss Vera?” Jordan asked, holding his arm out to her.

***

Together Maggie and Jordan made their way up the entryway of Hughes House, slipping easily into the crowd of well-dressed aristocrats.

The closer they got to the house, the more uneasy Maggie felt. Her instincts had always been strong and right now they were telling her to run in the opposite direction. The house both beckoned and repulsed her, it’s stately facade echoed a warning signal to her very bones.

“There is magic here. I’m sure of it.” Maggie muttered quietly, so only Jordan could hear.

Fighting the urge to turn around, she held Jordan’s arm tighter and continued onwards, her heels clicking unevenly on the cobblestones.

The sycophants of London society surrounded them. Whereas before they were met with judgemental stares, now they were being looked up with admiration and curiosity. The attention did little to soothe Maggie’s anxiety at the current situation.

They were met at the door by a well-dressed, middle-aged man, whom Maggie guessed was the Butler.

“May I have your invitations please?” The pompous man queried, gloved hand outstretched.

Maggie had come prepared for this. Gathering a handful of powder from a her purse, she quickly blew it towards the man, whispering an incantation under her breath.

“ _Finge cor. Muta mentem. Alia eventa mihi. Shape the heart, change the mind, give me results of a different kind..._ ”

A dazed look came over the Butler, before he broke into a relaxed grin. Maggie pressed her advantage.

“Don’t you know who we are? Is an invitation really necessary?” She asked, doing her best to sound imposing.

“You are quite right... uhm... may I ask what your names are?” He said, beaming at them, his head tilted sleepily to one side.

Maggie was about give them their prepared aliases, but her companion jumped in.

“Chase. Mr and Mrs Chase.” Jordan declared taking Maggie’s hand in his own. Maggie didn’t expect that. They had been masquerading as brother and sister these last few weeks.

Satisfied, the Butler moved to the next group in line and Maggie turned to Jordan eyebrows raised, satin adorned hand on her hip.

“So, we are married now?” She quipped. Jordan had the decency to look abashed before answering.

“It will be easier to stick together if they think we are a couple and you won’t have to fight off an army of potential suitors.”

Indeed, there were several well-dressed men in waistcoats eyeing Maggie from the crowded ballroom. Jordan fixed them with a pointed stare and they scattered.

She had to admit he had a point. They wouldn’t get far if she was being bombarded for dances all night.

“Well then, shall we darling?” Maggie crooned, putting a sing-song emphasis on the last word. She could have sworn Jordan blushed as they entered the ballroom together as husband and wife.

***

The Hughes family ballroom was grand, with a domed ceiling and polished floor of dark marble. The walls were covered in large mirrors with ostentatious gold frames, which made the crowd seem twice as large. Maggie instantly felt claustrophobic.

“Are you ok?” Jordan queried, sensing her discomfort. He continued to hold her arm as they made their way around the room, for which Maggie was grateful.

“I’ll be fine, we just need to speak to Lady Hughes alone.” Maggie replied, scanning the room for their host.

They had watch the Hughes family come and go these last few days from the cover of a nearby alley. The parasol’s enchantment had only ever activated in the presence of Lady Hughes or one of her children, never the servants or anyone else visiting the household.

If the enchantment was working correctly that meant that the Hughes family were related to Maggie through her mother’s side. Maggie hoped that meant Lady Honoria Hughes was a witch, who could help them return home. It was a gamble, but nothing else had worked and they were desperate.

Maggie almost jumped as the band began to play. These last few weeks had certainly taken their toll, she reflected grimly. She had never been one to startle easily.

Maggie watched as excited young men and women began to flock to the dancefloor in search of their partners. Many of the older guests were milling around the edges of the room like herself and Jordan - preferring wine and conversation to dancing.

As she searched the crowd for Honoria, Maggie noticed that there were many bored and forlorn looking young ladies lingering at edge of the dance floor. It seemed that Honoria’s party was suffering from a dearth of eligible young men.

One such young woman in a lavish red gown looked her up and down with distaste. Although her expression turned feline when she beheld Jordan. Shooting him a sly smile, she gingerly stroked the dark fur wrapped around her shoulders. A come-hither look if Maggie had ever seen one.

Jordan ignored her and the woman pouted momentarily before turning back to her friends.

“Lady Hughes sure knows how to throw a party.” Jordan mused, as they took it all in. The lustrous chandelier glittering above them like a constellation of stars. The aristocrats in their furs and feathers, sipping sparkling glasses of champagne as they mingled. The young people on the dance floor, full of exuberance as they moved in graceful formation. As if they knew the world belonged to them.

In another life, Maggie could have enjoyed herself here, as a girl in a beautiful dress with a handsome man on her arm.

But this was not her life. She belonged with her sisters and Harry in Seattle. Maggie fought back tears as she pictured their faces, fearful that if she was trapped here too long she would begin to forget what they looked like.

“There she is.” Jordan said, interrupting her train of thought and motioning to a group of people seated across the ballroom.

Following his gaze, Maggie spotted Lady Honoria sitting on a plush settee, surrounded by friends and admirers. She was middle-aged, but whether through cosmetics or mannerisms she seemed much younger. Her dress was black silk, with a jewelled lace overlay. Her hair was arranged in an elaborate updo that put Maggie’s to shame. The only evidence of Honoria’s age were a few grey wisps of hair that shone in the light of the ballroom.

The two of them managed manoeuvre through the throng of London’s finest, before coming to a stop directly in front of Honoria.

“My Lady.” Maggie said as she Jordan bowed their heads in deference. 

Lady Honoria peered at Maggie over the top of her wine glass, eyes narrowing and nostrils flaring wildly. There was a flash of something Maggie could not identify - anger or excitement? Then as quickly as it happened, Honoria’s expression became pleasant.

“Maggie, darling!” She practically screeched, scanningher from head to toe.

“How do you know who I am?” Maggie replied, completely taken aback. She felt cold all of a sudden, every one of her instincts were telling her to run.

Lady Honoria caught herself, swallowing a gulp of wine, eyes still fixed on Maggie with an intensity that prompted Jordan to step subtly between them.

“Oh... but everyone knows you and Mr Chase, don’t we?!” She exclaimed, turning to her companions. The well-dressed men and women nodded, but Maggie could tell they were confused.

“Anyway, Maggie dear, you should enjoy the ball. Come and find me before you leave. I have something you might be looking for.” Honoria whispered slyly, winking at Maggie, before getting up to dance with one of her companions.

Maggie and Jordan were left standing confused at the edge of dance floor as Lady Hughes and her partner were swept away by the crowd.

“That was... odd.” Jordan muttered, not taking his eye of their host, as she glided across the ballroom.

“Very. How did she know my name?” Maggie said quietly, hugging her sides. The ballroom suddenly seemed colder. She felt the presence of dark magic, but couldn’t pinpoint it’s source. The air in the room seemed to crackle with energy, as if a storm was approaching.

“I don’t like this, we should leave.” He replied, eyeing the way they came in.

“No, this is our only chance. She might be able to help us.” Maggie argued. Pushing aside the warning bells for now, Maggie calmed herself and smiled sweetly, mimicking the other young women in the room.

Jordan look doubtful, but offered her his hand.

“Well then, will you dance with me Mrs Chase?” He said, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Of course, Mr Chase.” Maggie replied, rising to the challenge. After all, Honoria said they should enjoy themselves and these last few weeks had been so hard.

Gently, he placed his left hand on the small of her back and pulled her towards him. His right hand grasped her left tentatively. Maggie inhaled slightly at the contact. They had sparred before in the gym, but this felt more intimate. The height difference meant she had to tilt her had back to meet his eyes. She giggled.

“What is it?” He asked incredulously.

“You are just so tall.” She replied, sighing as his warmth enveloped her and they joined the other dancers.

Jordan rolled his eyes, but smiled softly as they waltzed. It was the happiest she had seen him since they had arrived in London.

Maggie tried to relax and enjoy the moment, but she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was wrong. As they twirled and glided across the ballroom she wondered how Honoria knew her name?

***

The ball continued late into the night, with Maggie and Jordan taking breaks from dancing to question the other guests.

As it turned out Honoria’s eldest daughter had emigrated to America with her husband Jeffery Eddings, a name that Maggie recognised from her mother’s family tree.

“Well that solves one mystery.” Maggie commented as the band struck up a slow waltz. It was the end of the night and she knew she should be looking for Honoria, but Maggie was enchanted by the music.

The crowd had thinned, with many of the revellers leaving for the night or retiring to plush armchairs scattered around the fringes of the ballroom. The room seemed more open and Maggie felt a boost of confidence.

“Dance with me again?” She asked Jordan softly.

He looked at her for a moment and Maggie saw her own longing reflected in his eyes. They had been so preoccupied with finding a way home, they hadn’t paused to breathe.

“Always.” Jordan replied, taking her in his arms and leading her to the dance floor.

After what happened with Parker, Maggie had sworn off relationships. Love was too complicated when you were a witch. But Jordan had seen her at her worst and he still stood by her. With him it was never complicated. He was a true friend, but these last few months she had found herself wanting more.

The song was soft and slow. Maggie rested her head on Jordan’s chest, inhaling his scent as they moved to the music. She closed her eyes, imagining the ballroom empty except for the two of them.

Her reverie was broken by the rumble of Jordan’s chest as he spoke.

“Maggie I - I know they say you should never form serious attachments during traumatic situations - ” He began, looking down at her intently.

“- and our time together hasn’t exactly been stress free. But I have to be honest, because there is a chance we are never getting home-“

“No Jordan, please don’t say that. We will find a way home.” Maggie interrupted.

“Let me finish, please Maggie.” He said softly, meeting her brown eyes with his own.

She found herself soothed by his steady gaze and allowed him to continue.

“I’m in love with you Maggie Vera.” Jordan proclaimed, holding her gaze.

Maggie’s world stopped at those words. She waited forthat all-consuming feeling of fear to hit her, but it didn’t. Instead, Maggie felt light and free as she looked at him, as though she could fly.

Jordan continued, “And if we end up stuck here I will do my best to make sure your life is a good one.”

Maggie’s eyes brimmed with tears.

“Even if it is not the life you imagined.” He finished, his voice cracking at the last few words. A solitary tear ran down Jordan’s face and Maggie lent in unconsciously as if to kiss it away...

“Excuse me...” Interrupted the Butler, clearing his throat awkwardly.

The two of them sprang apart. Maggie instinctively smoothing out her dress as she turned to address the man.

“Lady Hughes will see you in the study now.” He said, indicating that they should follow him.

***

“Shut the door please Mr Chase.” Lady Hughes said as Maggie and Jordan entered the study.

The room was colder than it should have been with the fireplace lit. Maggie couldn’t help but notice an odd smell coming from the cupboard next to the bookshelf. It made her skin crawl. Something felt wrong, terribly wrong.

“That was an interesting spell you put on the Butler.” Honoria commented once the door was closed. Her piercing stare unnerved Maggie.

“So you know I am a witch. Can you help us return home?” Maggie pleaded, her trepidation quelled momentarily by the prospect of seeing her sisters again.

“I’m afraid not.” Honoria said simply, her expression turning dark as she approached Maggie from behind the large mahogany writing desk. 

“But-“ Maggie began, but she was interrupted.

“Time is a funny thing Ms Vera, its’ twists and turns keep us guessing. You may not know me, but I know you very well...”

Honoria smiled wolfishly, revealing a set of razor sharp teeth. A wave of dizziness enveloped Maggie as their host’s appearance began to shimmer.

“No... this isn’t right.” Maggie murmured, reaching for a chair to steady herself.

“Maggie!” Jordan exclaimed, reaching out to support her shoulders as her knees weakened.

“Oh you poor dear.” Honoria said mockingly. “I guess you aren’t used to the magic of my people. You should know it is poison for witches such as yourself.”

“That’s not Lady Hughes.” Maggie whispered in horror, as the woman before her began to shift appearance. Her skin adopted a sickly green hue, while her nails became talons. A long reptilian tale whipped out from beneath her dress.

“I’m so glad you arrived when you did, I’m not partial cold climates and poor Honoria was starting to stink.” The creature - formerly masquerading as Lady Hughes - said in a deep, distorted voice.

Oh God. The smell from the cupboard...

“What the hell!’ Jordan shouted, moving forward to shield Maggie, but the creature’s tail was too quick, whipping out in front her and sending Jordan flying across the room and into the bookshelf.

“Quiet Jordan. Can’t you see the ladies are talking.” She screeched menacingly at him.

“Who the hell are you?!” Maggie shouted, hoping to attract the attention of one of the party-goers or servants outside.

“Who I am is immaterial. Give me the box and I shall let you live.” The creature snarled in a deep, unearthly voice, her eyes glowing dark red.

Maggie eyed Jordan, who carried the box in the pocket of his jacket. He would give it to the creature to save Maggie, she knew that. Even if it condemned them to a life away from family and friends.

Subtly she shook her head at Jordan, a silent order to stand down. Turning to the thing in front of her, Maggie focused her breathing and lifted herself into a fighting stance.

“If you want it, come and get it!” Maggie shouted, with more bravado than she felt. Gripping a nearby lamp she hurled it with all her might at the creature, who reeled back in shock and anger.

“All the trouble you have caused me!” The creature screamed, launching herself at Maggie, who ducked out of the way just in time.

“I don’t even know you!” Maggie screamed, sending a knee to the creature’s gut. But whatever poison the monster was secreting had slowed Maggie’s reflexes. Her opponent moved swiftly, grabbing Maggie’s neck with both her claws and hoisting the youngest Charmed Oneup against the wall.

“And now you never will!” She screeched, digging her talons into Maggie’s throat. Blood cascaded down onto Maggie’s dress and her vision began to blur. Dimly she was aware of Jordan shouting, then all of a sudden the pressure on her throat ceased and she fell to the ground.

Her skin felt warm from the blood, but her body was cold. So very cold. She reached up to her neck to try and stop the blood flow but there was too much. It coated her hands, a warning in bright red. You. Are. Dying.

She could see Jordan trying to fight the creature. But hewas mortal and no match for whatever that thing was.

Maggie wanted to get up and help him, but her legs were like lead and she was so very tired...

Suddenly, a bright light in the corner of her eye caught Maggie’s attention.Turning slightly to the left she saw the box on the ground, it’s runes glowing ominously.

The box spoke to her mind in a high, cold voice that made Maggie’s skin crawl...

_What do you need?_

Maggie fought throw the fog that threatened to overwhelm her mind as the blood-loss took its toll. Willing the box to understand she sent a desperate telepathic message.

Escape. Healing. The Charmed Ones.

_As you wish..._

Maggie gasped as an unseen force pulled Jordan through the air towards her...

A blinding light -much like the one in The Faction’s headquarters seared Maggie’s vision. The creature’s scream of fury echoed as Jordan and Maggie were once again sent hurtling through space and time...

***

Complete darkness enveloped Maggie and for a moment she believed she was dead. Picturing Macy and Mel, she whispered a farewell, hoping they wouldn’t spend the rest of their lives wondering what had happened to her.

Then as abruptly as it had arrived, the darkness vanished and Maggie awoke atop a sand dune, the burning sunlight causing her to squint.

A wave of dizziness swept over her and Maggie realised she was still bleeding from the neck. The soft blue fabric of her ballgown was torn and stained with blood that was seeping into the sand.

She heard Jordan shouting her name and felt his hands on her neck as he attempt to stem the flow of blood. She heard his voice as if underwater.

“God no. Maggie please hold on!” He pleaded.

Maggie wanted to tell him that everything would be alright, but her throat burned when she tried to speak.

The last thing she noticed before sinking into darkness was a large, unfinished pyramid in the distance.

**Author's Note:**

> Don’t worry Maggie will be ok. The box knew what it was doing (sort of!).  
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
